To Raise a Pond
by PenAndInkPrincess
Summary: A series of one-shots based off of the question: "What would have happened if the Doctor had been on time in picking up Amelia?" T for safety.
1. Chapter 1: Education

**Hi guys! This is an idea I've had for a while, after seeing that someone had written a one-shot about Amy having gotten picked up at the proper time. I thought it was a really intriguing idea and decided to run with it. So this is going to be a collection of fics surrounding the question, "What would it have been like if the Doctor had been on time?" **

It was an adjustment for the Doctor to have a child on board the Tardis. Though his companions were all young compared to him, Amelia Pond at seven was practically a baby.

Still, there was a lot to be said for a child's energy.

Where most adults would have raised an eyebrow or tsked in disapproval, little Amelia threw herself into every endeavor with glee, accepting the oddities of her new life with relish. Pink and purple beings with horns twisting from their heads? No problem. A species of aliens prone to excessive flatulence as a method of communicating? Giggle-worthy, but fascinating all the same. No creature was too strange, no culture too foreign. His small ginger companion eagerly undertook every adventure.

What the Doctor took the most joy in, however, was in seeing to Amelia's education.

Human children were remarkably similar to sponges. They just soaked up everything around them with ease, always ready for more.

Her education was piecemeal, a side effect of having no curriculum and all of time and space. Her math and science involved quantum mechanics, her arts studying the likes of Beethoven and Da Vinci as they worked, asking rapid-fire questions that no book would have been able to tell her. History was the only subject that got little attention. She knew what events happened, of course (she had witnessed most of the important ones personally), but every inquiry of when was met with a hand wave and an explanation of, "Eh. Wibbly wobbly."

Amelia even began learning the basics of piloting the TARDIS (though she showed little more skill in this than the Doctor, as she rarely got the right time or place, too). She aided the Doctor with repairs, handing him tools when he asked, her little face very grave in light of what she saw as a very solemn duty. Sometimes she even got to use the tools (under the Doctor's watchful eye, of course).

Eventually the day came when little Amelia became curious about the strange symbols that flashed on the screens of the TARDIS. She hadn't learned those yet.

"Doctor, what do those scribbly things mean?" She pointed to indicate one, a circle with a lot of lines and figures inside.

"They're words, Pond. Words in my language."

He braced himself, mulling over how best to deflect questions about his own past. That was one period of history he wasn't willing to teach her.

Amelia, more observant than she was given credit for, noticed the slip in the Doctor's smile and decided that her next question of: "What language is that?" was best left for another day. Instead she looked up at her Raggedy Man and smiled.

"Will you teach me?"

Blinking in surprise, the Doctor returned her smile after a moment with a half-grin of his own, half wondering what he had done in his past lives to deserve this small creature in his present.

"It would be my pleasure, Pond."

**That's it for now you guys! Please review to tell me what you thought and how I can improve. **


	2. Chapter 2: Makeover

Sometimes the Doctor considered the wisdom of bringing a singular little girl onto the Tardis.

He was currently on the floor of the bedroom Amelia had claimed as her own, sitting patiently (well, as patiently as he could) with his back against the bed as Amelia combed through his hair, braiding and decorating and ribboning and ponytailing and all sorts of girlish things that no Time Lord should ever have been subjected to.

"Are you almost done, Pond?" He asked, hoping against hope that the answer would be yes so he could finally retreat to the safety of his console.

"No!" She chirped.

He groaned and wilted slightly, glancing at the floor length mirror across the room to see Amelia working behind him, her little face reflecting intense concentration as her tongue peeked out from between her lips as she painstakingly pinned his hair into place.

He wondered, briefly, how he had been talked into this. He, the Incoming Storm, destroyer of worlds but protector of earth, had been cowed into playing hair salon by a seven-year-old little girl.

Luckily he had stashed a small generator in his pocket earlier and he tinkered with it idly where it rested on his lap, occasionally having his head adjusted by Amelia as she worked on her masterpiece.

They both worked quietly for a while on their individual projects, until Amelia finally decided she was finished.

She gleefully flounced off of her bed, and grabbed his hand, dragging him over to the mirror to inspect her handiwork. She pressed a smaller mirror into his hand and turned him around, grinning up at him hopefully, waiting for his praise.

He inspected her work, feigning intense consideration as she fidgeted next to him.

Eventually he took mercy on her and smiled.

"It's lovely Pond. You're quite the hair dresser."

She gave him a look that shifted from gleeful to downright devilish.

"Just wait until you see what I can do with cosmetics!"

As she drug him over to her lighted mirror stand, he could've sworn he heard the TARDIS snickering.


	3. Chapter 3: Right Place, Wrong Time

Time travel wasn't always pretty.

There were wars and famines and fires and floods, and things that no one should ever have to see. Especially little redheaded eight-year-old girls. The Doctor did his best to avoid taking his Pond anywhere too frightening. There were still issues to be settled, but they could be handled alone, with Amelia tucked safely away in her bed on the TARDIS.

Sometimes, though, the Doctor made mistakes.

That was how they had come to be standing in the middle of square when police began executing members of the crowd to control the riot against their dictator.

The planet was known for its beautiful flowers, and Amelia had wanted to see them. The majority of their past was peaceful, punctuated only by occasional changes in leadership with peaceful power exchanges. Unfortunately, there had been a brief period of unrest in its history in which the government became a dictatorship and the people had rebelled. And guess when the Doctor had managed to land in?

When the people had started to descend on their capitol building, the Doctor managed to maneuver them into a small alleyway, out of the crush of people. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't interfere with the events about to occur. He glanced down at his small companion. She was absolutely petrified, as she clung to his hand like a lifeline, her face pale with fright and her eyes wide as saucers. She pressed herself close to his side, her gaze trained on the angry crowd in front of them.

The Doctor glanced around for his TARDIS and groaned when he caught of a glimpse of distinctive blue amidst a rioting ocean of people. It was surrounded by an angry mob, and therefore too risky to take Amelia to.

He was starting to weigh the risks of leaving Amelia for a moment to move the TARDIS to the alley when the first shots rang out.

Amelia screamed when she heard it and though the Doctor had turned her head away the moment before impact, she still felt the hot spray of blood against her face as some unfortunate person was mowed down right in front of them.

The Doctor scooped the terrified child into his arms, pushing her face into the junction of his neck and shoulder. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt as she sobbed, clinging to him for dear life. He pressed a kiss to her temple and rubbed her back absently, trying to figure out where he could take her to get away from this madness, trying and failing to control the guilt he already felt for having forced her to experience this.

"Sh, Pond," he whispered into her ear, eyes still scanning for an escape route, "it's alright. I've got you. You're going to be fine, Pond. It's all going to be fine."

He finally decided that there was no way to avoid it: the TARDIS was the only place where his Pond would be safe.

Squaring his shoulders, he adjusted Amelia so she was more secure against him and pushed his way into the crowd. He tried to shield Amelia from the crush of people around them, but he knew she still caught a few blows from errant fists and elbows.

Finally, _finally, _they made it to the TARDIS and the Doctor stumbled inside, Amelia still in his arms. The child's tears had not abated, and she was shaking against him.

He clicked the lock into place and paused at the console only long enough to get them away from the riot outside before proceeding down the hallway to the med bay.

Amelia's tears had begun to stem to a stop when she realized she was back in the TARDIS, but she still shuddered periodically against him.

Gently he peeled her limbs from their death hold around him and sat her on a table.

He gently kissed her hair before looking her over for injuries. A wayward blow had caught her on the cheek, leaving a dark red mark and a small cut. More soon-to-be bruises were on her back and arms. Though he knew had taken the brunt of the attacks from the crowd, his hearts still ached with guilt that Amelia had been hurt at all.

"Hey," he said softly, to catch her attention.

He was rewarded when her eyes flicked to meet his own. He brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks and pulled out a few devices to heal her injuries. He narrated the process to reassure her, keeping up a constant babble of information. He doubted she understood much of it at all, but the tension did seem to leave her just the smallest bit at his voice.

"Ta da!" He exclaimed with false cheer when he was finished. "All better. Like a magic trick, huh? Did I ever tell you about when I was a magician for King Arthur's court, Pond? That Guinevere fancied me, she did, but I-"

He broke off when she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck again.

He rested his cheek against the top of her head. Her breath cooled the tear stains still on his shirt as she nuzzled her head against him.

"Why?" She whispered. The one word was heavy with implications of its meaning. _Why were they so angry? Why were they destroying buildings? Why were people shooting? Why were people dying? _

"I don't know, Pond," he answered truthfully.

Eventually she disentangled herself from him and he sent her off to clean up while he took care of his own injuries. She glanced back at him when she reached the doorway and he sent her an encouraging grin.

"It's alright, Pond. I'll be here when you get back. It's not so easy to get rid of me, Amelia." He winked.

She gave him a small smile at that and scurried off to wash the blood from her skin.

He cleaned himself up, as well, changing clothes and throwing the old ones away. _Pity about the bowtie_, he thought mournfully, but he didn't want to risk triggering Amelia in the future if she saw the clothes again.

Freshly changed, he stopped by the kitchen to make two mugs of hot chocolate (Amelia's favorite) before seeking out his Pond.

He knocked softly at her door with the tip of his shoe.

"Come in," she called, her voice soft.

She was curled up on her bed in a set of purple striped pajamas. He sat down beside her, handing her a mug and clinking his against it before they both took a sip.

He toed his shoes off before swinging his legs onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. She nestled against his side and he idly stroked her still-damp hair with his free hand.

"Are they going to be okay?" she asked. The Doctor's lips curved into a rueful half-smile at her question.

"They will, Pond. Eventually. When the rebellion stops they'll have a new government. It'll be rocky at first, that's to be expected, especially with you lot," she elbowed him at that and he grinned before continuing, "but eventually there'll be peace and the planet will go back to their flowers."

"Good."

He sighed, his guilt returning full-force.

"I'm sorry, Amelia. I never meant for that to happen. I should have checked before I let you out and we should have left before anything happened. That riot was something you should never have had to seen," here he paused, a knot forming in his throat as he continued, "and I will understand if you want to go home."

She was quiet for a while and the Doctor wondered if she'd fallen asleep on him.

"I don't want to go back to my aunt," she said finally, her little voice very solemn. "That was…bad, but I still want to stay with you. I like the TARDIS. It's my home now. We go on adventures and sometimes they're scary, but mostly they're fun and I don't want to leave you."

That last part surprised him and he kissed her forehead affectionately, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Speaking of adventures, Pond, have I ever told you of the time I met Catherine the Great? Not the first one, mind you, but the twenty-third. She was something alright. Why, on her spaceship…"

They stayed like that until Amelia fell asleep, the Doctor babbling on about every story he could think of and Amelia listening, occasionally throwing in her own commentary or an eye roll.

When her breathing evened out and the Doctor was sure she was sleeping peacefully, he slipped from her hold and tucked a quilt around her shoulders. He brushed her hair from her face and made sure her blanket was secure before leaving her.

"Goodnight, Pond," he whispered before he shut the door, returning to the console and deciding that tomorrow he would take Amelia to a planet of benevolent fuzzy creatures that looked like brightly colored, furry basketballs. She didn't need any adventures for a while.

He fiddled with the engines for a while before giving up on accomplishing anything while he was still on edge.

He scrubbed his hands over his face before slinging himself into a chair.

What a git he'd been that day. It would have taken a few seconds, tops, to thoroughly investigate what time they were about to step out into. But no, he had bounded out of the TARDIS with Amelia in tow. He had been speaking animatedly about a particular species of flower that smelled almost exactly like raspberry jam when he realized what was about to happen.

It had been too late by then, however. They were already quite some distance from the TARDIS and the crowd had already been growing.

Amelia hadn't understood what was going on at first, and she had looked up at, amusedly quizzical before the shouting had really started. Then her expression had changed to fear.

_She could have been killed_, he thought suddenly. The police at the time would have been shooting at random. What was it to them if a little girl was caught in the crossfire? How quickly little Amelia's life could have been snuffed out. How close he had come to losing her, just like that. Just by choosing a bad time on a usually peaceful planet. He delved deeper into self-loathing as he berated himself for being so incredibly stupid.

"It isn't your fault, you know."

He almost leaped out of his skin when Amelia spoke. She cocked an eyebrow at his reaction but refrained from commenting.

"I thought you were asleep, Pond," he said, his voice accusing.

"Bad dream," she said simply, climbing onto the seat beside him.

"Ah," he said, wondering if she would want to talk about it.

"It isn't your fault," she said again, making eye contact. "That's what you're thinking about."

He was slightly surprised by her insight.

"I should've been more careful, Pond. You could have died." He saw no point in babying her. She needed to know what the risks had been.

"You wouldn't have let me," she replied, her tone almost smug in its certainty.

"I might not have had a choice," he retorted. She considered him for a moment after that. Apparently deciding something, she placed a small hand against his cheek to ensure she had his full attention before speaking.

"I'm okay. Nothing happened. It was scary, but I knew you would keep me safe. I trust you, Doctor. Maybe you need to trust you, too."

He didn't have a reply to that and she knew it. Instead she removed her hand from his cheek and wriggled her way under his arm, leaning against him.

"Though next time you should check the year, Doctor."

**That's it, you guys! I hope Amy's last little comment kept it from being too sappy sweet. **

**Please, please, please review. I want to hear what you guys want next and what you think of what I've got so far. Feel free to leave me prompts that you would want to see. I may not be able to get to all of them, but I will try. **

**Thanks! **


	4. Chapter 4:Quick, Temporary Author's Note

**Hi you guys! I don't have another chapter, just a quick author's note that I'll delete later. **

**Apparently the writer twofer had the same/similar idea as me, and s/he was using the title "Raising Amelia." I'm going to continue writing my story (I glanced over his/her story very briefly, and we have distinctly different writing styles and plot points), but since s/he had the title first, it's only fair that I change mine. **

**So now this story will be called "To Raise a Pond." **

**If you guys have any other title suggestions, I would be appreciative. There are probably some obviously better ones, but it's 2:20 in the morning and I'm not feeling very clever. I just wanted to type this out so no one would think I would ever steal another person's work. **

**-Pen **


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